This (not-so-old) house, the house we bought in October, the house I sometimes call “the ship” for its grey paint, long, narrow shape, and (probably unintentionally) boat-like floor plan, leaks.

First, we found water under the bedroom door. Matt insisted I put it there. I insisted we had a leak. We found the leak, and some rotten framing.

A couple of weeks later, on a stormy Saturday morning, a big rain came. And we saw water, like it was raining inside our house, pouring all over our newly-installed windows. Another leak.

Then we saw water running down the wall, a long, steady trickle. Another leak.

Then we found the siding upstairs was bad, and was letting water in along the walls of the house, rotting the wood. Another leak.

The next day, Matt opened a fortune cookie from a recent dinner at a Chinese restaurant. The fortune said, “I’m not afraid of storms, for I’m learning to sail my ship.”